Rashness
by Just A Penniless Writer
Summary: Sarah's son is in the hospital. Coincidentally, the Department of Diagnostic Medicine is very bored. LabyrinthHouse crossover.
1. Chapter 1

**Rash(ness)  **

_Standard disclaimer applies.  
Complete OneShot Crossover of Labyrinth/House. Enjoy if you can._

Working at the Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital under the direction of House made Robert's life very much like a transoceanic voyage: there were days of excitement and life or death decisions but mostly there was routine. And routine was tragically boring.

It didn't help that the department had hit a bit of a dry spell. The only new cases had been easily remedied and the depths of boredom they were reaching were all too apparent in his colleagues' activities: Cameron, after watching House for far too long, was teaching herself how to juggle while Foreman reviewed countless cases in search of something interesting enough to call to House's attention.

He tried watching them, finding humor in Foreman's complaints and Cameron's straight faced attempts at catching, but found that despite the lightness of the activities, the atmosphere was entirely too serious. He wanted to see something not quite so absurdly boring and silent. He wanted to see something light. He wanted to see something interesting. For all these reasons, he found himself in the children's wing.

For those who can appreciate it, the children's wing of any hospital can be a wealth of good emotion. Even the sickest of children seem to find smiles and the mood is Enforced Upbeat. The usual hospital smell and attire is usually purposefully subdued in favor of apple air freshener and colorful smocks. If one knows how to forget the reason these children are here, and Robert was thusly skilled, the wing could be a haven even for those who do not like children.

There was a woman in the hall when he entered the wing, a fairly pretty woman with dark hair and clear features, but she was obviously anxious as she waited outside a closed door. Not particularly interested in becoming part of the hospital's everyday drama, he walked slowly, soaking up the atmosphere while avoiding eye contact. When the door opened, however, he couldn't help but watch as she spoke to the exiting nurse before exhaling with relief and entering the patient's room. He noted the room number and decided checking the patient's file might relieve him of some of his boredom.

It didn't help at all. Child, male, aged eight, in for broken leg -- it was a routine case and the only thing remotely intriguing were the scratches through the boy's eye color (were they brown or green or blue?), as well as one question mark near the end -- "right forearm: rash?" The eye color issue was worth a slight snort as no one really looked at eye color anyway, but the hesitancy present in the rash comment made him wonder. After all, a rash was a rash was a rash. There was generally no question whether a rash was a rash or not. Why was this rash so questionable?

His curiosity was piqued, and he was fairly to moderately sure it had nothing to do with the attractive woman that was in all probability the boy's mother.

The door to the room was open when he approached, and he could hear the pleasant sounds of the woman's voice. The subject matter became clear only after he paused out of sight beyond the door.

"'Goblin King, Goblin King, wherever you may be! Take this child of mine far away from me!'" she said dramatically as the child giggled.

"Mom, did you really think that would work?"

"Of course not, but then I didn't expect the actual words to work either. 'I wish' is so common it made it unexpected, which is exactly as your father wanted it."

"When is Dad coming back?"

"When he's done. You know as well as anyone how long 13 hours can last."

"It's long this time."

"Yes, it is, but he'll be here soon enough."

They lapsed into silence and Robert, feeling a bit silly at wishing to interrupt them because he was bored, backed out and away. A rash was just a rash, after all, and would undoubtedly disappoint him.

Thus, an interesting development in his routine life was delayed for three hours until House became inextricably involved, as usual.

* * *

Sarah Williams hated being a single mother, especially as she was by no means single. However, as the Underground would have to be recognized as a sovereign nation, let alone a real place, before its laws could be recognized Above, she found it altogether easier to forgo explaining her awkward relationship status and grudgingly accepted the much simpler title of Single Mother. 

As an attractive woman and Single Mother, she was more than accustomed to being flirted with, especially in elevators. However, she was not accustomed to being spoken to as if she were an idiot.

"Did it not occur to you that visiting a sick person while you yourself are sick might not be the best idea?"

The man didn't even bother looking at her when he said it, but she could see his eyes in the reflection on the elevator door.

"I'm not sick," she responded while pulling out a small bottle of hand disinfectant. "It's just allergies."

"Yes. Allergic to being sick. How silly of me to assume otherwise."

"I'm not sick."

"Yeah. And you don't have a rash on your arm either."

"It isn't a rash."

"Because healthy skin naturally turns that color."

"It's... something else. I know what it is, and it isn't a rash."

For a guy on a cane, she didn't expect him to move so quickly. He had hold of her arm and was tugging up the sleeve of her sweater before she even registered his movement.

She sighed in resignation as he saw exactly what 'something else' was.

"Okay, it's not a rash. But it is interesting."

"Told you," she stated plainly while ineffectually tugging her arm away.

"The redness is definitely irritation but the sparkling... You didn't happen to have glitter tattooed into your arm, did you?"

"Would that make you let go of me?"

"Not until you give me the name of the artist." They stared at each other for several long seconds, gauging their own perceived abilities against that of the other until the elevator door finally opened, and she used his distraction to free herself from his grip.

"It's just... it's just a rash. Now if you excuse me, this is my floor."

She was smoothing out her sleeve halfway down the hall before she tempted a look behind her. The man was standing at the elevator, leaning heavily on his cane, and watching her go with a curious expression. She knew at that point that getting out of the hospital with any expediency would be trouble.

* * *

"When is a rash not a rash?" 

Having had that thought almost exactly three hours before, Robert immediately took notice. His colleagues were barely phased.

"The boy on the third floor? You saw him?"

"Nooo... but now I really am interested."

"I didn't see the rash, but I looked at his chart and noticed it was speculative. When is a rash speculative?"

"When it sparkles."

"Sparkles?"

"Sparkles."

"But couldn't that be explained by irritation due to glitter? It's not uncommon."

"There's no glitter on my hands."

"And?"

"The nature of glitter is not to stick to its intended target. Glitter spreads, quicker and more effectively than a cold."

"What, then? Glass shards?"

"Because the attending can so easily miss sharp pointy things embedded into the skin."

"Trick of the light?"

"The attending's eyesight is tragically perfect."

"Irritation of the sweat glands or follicles?"

"Sparkly, not icky."

"Instead of arguing over adjectives, why don't we go look at the rash?"

"Brilliant idea, but she's probably hiding from me. I might have been too touchy."

"Is the patient admitted?"

"She isn't. Chase seems to know more about it though."

"It's probably unrelated. A boy in the children's wing has a speculative rash."

"Two similar unusual items occurring within hours of each other are usually unrelated. Check out the kid. I bet you his arm sparkles."

* * *

"Jared, we need to go." 

"Mom?"

"Pull on your shirt, then I'll help you with the shorts."

"What happened, Mom?"

"My arm."

"Oh."

She was rushing, even though she didn't believe the man could possibly put the puzzle together so quickly. Still, it was better to be well out of the way by the time anyone came looking for her.

However, she underestimated him. She was helping her son into the wheelchair when the room was invaded by the rude man and several doctors. Upon seeing her, the rude man grinned and turned to his colleagues.

"That's twenty from each of you."

A bit irritated, she turned back to her son, making sure he was comfortable. Perhaps if she ignored them, they would go away. It happened in the Underground often enough.

"Don't mind us. We're just here on official doctor business."

"It's unnecessary. We were just leaving."

"Were you?" He raised his cane to block the doorway. She glared pointedly, but it only seemed to humor him.

"Do you mind?"

"Absolutely. Show us the kid's arm, and we might stop minding."

"It's just a rash."

"No, it isn't, and we've already had this argument."

"It's not your concern."

"Nope, but it is curious."

"Curious or not, we are leaving."

"But, you see, there's all these tricky forms you need to fill out before you can check out a kid early. Really tricky forms when you have four doctors on your arm."

"Why won't you leave?"

"Cripples aren't good at running away."

"Mom..."

"His leg is cast, and the rash is nothing. You can't keep us here."

"It's ridiculously easy to make a rash something."

"Mom, Dad's here."

Sarah paused, looked away from the annoying doctor's bemused expression, and turned her gaze instead to the bemused King relaxing in the doorway.

"Am I interrupting anything?"

"Jareth, thank goodness. Do you mind?"

Though Sarah well knew that such a request would put her in her King's debt, she grinned smugly as she wheeled her son through the jungle of frozen doctors and out of the room.

* * *

Robert blinked, dropped his hand, and blinked again. All traces of the woman and her son were gone, as well as any sign of the strange man that had appeared at the door. 

"Where..."

"Apparently it wasn't just a rash."

* * *


	2. Chapter 2

**Rash(ness)**  
_Just a Penniless Writer_

_**Standard Disclaimer Applies  
**__**Author's Plea:**_ I didn't want to, but it simply wouldn't leave me alone and it still didn't come out at all how I wanted. And now there's definitely going to be another part... except that I don't really expect anyone to like this one because its so... there's no Jareth! Come on! What happened!? And what the hell did I do to House?? And the OCs? ARGH! Well, if you can make it through this one, there _should_ be Jareth in the next part.  
...enjoy if you can.

* * *

**Part 2.**

Robert knew all too well that House had more than his share of vices, including but not limited to Vicodin, monster trucks, and sarcasm. However, he'd never included stalking in that list, though perhaps he should have considering all the breaking and entering into patients' homes he had facilitated.

"Is that a security tape?"

"Damn. What gave it away: the grainy picture quality or the view of the hallway in the children's wing?"

Robert quite rightly refused to respond to that, instead moving on to the next issue.

"How did you get that?"

"Apparently Pete in security likes the sauce. Someone should really do something about that."

Robert only wished he could one day match that guileless stare and complete sarcastic tone. However, he didn't particularly think he could live with himself if he did.

"What are you hoping to find, exactly?"

"I thought that was obvious."

"I doubt you'll find your answer on that tape."

"No, I've already found plenty of answers on this tape. I just haven't found _the_ answer."

House then proceeded to completely ignore him, which seemed particularly easy while his eyes were glued to the screen. Robert considered switching off the tv, but there wasn't much of a point to get House that angry. After all, they still didn't have a case, and they all dealt with their boredom in different ways.

As Robert sighed and walked away, he admitted to himself that he also hoped House might find whatever it was he was looking for on that tape, as he was sure something important had happened that day.

He just couldn't for the life of him remember it.

* * *

Sarah Williams spent enough time in the Aboveground that she had taken it upon herself to buy a condo big enough for herself and her son and just a few miles from her brother. 

For a week after the Incident, she had considered selling it and moving far away from the east coast, or, at the very least, just giving up a permanent Aboveground residence and staying in a hotel those days that she and her son were kicked out of the Labyrinth in favor of a runner.

Some days she really hated Underground policy, particularly those days she was stuck away from her King because yet another brat had made an ill timed wished. Perhaps she would have had more compassion had the Rules not forbidden more than two mortals within the realm at one time. She might even have been more forgiving if she wasn't physically tossed out, regardless of what she was doing, the second a wish was made, a fact that had accounted for many an embarrassing encounter.

Altogether, she could admit she was bitter about the whole thing, and it didn't make it any better that her brother and his wife just had to live not far from a certain hospital.

"Yeah, we're at Princeton-Plainsboro. You know which one, right?"

Sarah held back her cursing with the help of a previously unknown source of willpower.

"Yes, I know that one. I'll be right there, once I drop Jared off at Karen's."

"Right. It's just for an hour or so while I go home to clean up. I don't want Kevin to be left alone. You know how it is."

And she did know how it was. When her own son had been in the hospital, it had nearly torn her apart to be away from him while they set his leg. She couldn't begrudge Toby the same concern especially when his son was so very young.

"Thanks, Sarah. I really appreciate it."

"I know, brat. But there'd better be a can of Diet Cola waiting for me. I never get the stuff at home."

"Will do."

With that, she turned off her cell phone and sighed. Sarah loved her baby brother. Otherwise, she wouldn't be agreeing to one long hour in a place where she could very well be spotted for the magician she was connected to.

* * *

House was very happy that Cuddy so rarely changed her password into the online administrative files of the hospital. Otherwise, it would be a bit more difficult to find out if and when any Williams were around. 

Of course, there was usually at least one. Williams was, unfortunately, a very popular name. Even Sarah Williams was prevalent, though he had yet to find a Jared Williams within several hundred miles. Apparently that name fad hadn't made it to this part of the States.

On this particular day, he was possibly in luck. No Sarah or Jared Williams, but there was a kid, Kevin Williams, brought in by father, Toby Williams, for pneumonia. Not perfect, but possible. He would have to make a visit.

Let it never be said that he didn't visit patients. No one ever said the patients had to be his.

* * *

Sarah entered the hospital through a backdoor that had been propped open by a smoking nurse. From there, it was simply a matter of remembering which floor the children's wing resided on and sneaking down the hallway and into the room Toby had mentioned. 

"Sis! Thanks for coming!"

"Oh, Toby, you know I can't turn you down."

"Yeah, but it helps that you were around today. Otherwise I'd be waiting here until Kelly managed a flight home."

"You could have called Karen…"

"I know, I know, but mom's still mad that we married so young. I really don't want an argument right now."

"And I always thought it was the step-daughter that was supposed to be annoyed…"

"Ha, ha, very funny." They shared a siblings-in-arms smile before turning back to the matter at hand.

"Well," Toby said, worry in his tone. "The antibiotics are finally working, and I should be able to take him home in the morning, but if I spend one more night in these clothes, he's not going to want anywhere near his smelly dad."

"Go, Brat! We'll be fine here."

"Thanks, Sarah!"

As soon as her brother was out of sight, Sarah went into action. She pulled the door shut most of the way, thanking all that Kevin hadn't been installed in one of those glass fronted rooms that made hiding so difficult. Still paranoid, she pulled the visitor chair far into the corner so that only the edge would be visible from the hallway should the door come open.

Turning then to the bathroom, she did all she could short of using magic to alter her appearance. When she finally walked out, she giggled at the thought of looking like a prudish librarian. If only Jareth could see her now…

Actually, he probably could. She hoped he wasn't laughing too much.

The only remaining problem was that which had started it all: her glittery arms. And to think, she'd once thought the effect was amusing and pretty! Had she known absorbed Underground magic exiting her skin once Aboveground would have caused her so many problems, she would have started investing in body makeup. As it was, she was left with donning a sweater and hoping no one looked too closely at her wrists. At the very least, she was spared from wearing gloves like her would-be husband. The degree of magic that could penetrate hands was strong stuff, and she doubted she had that kind of control yet.

Having done all she could and found she still had another forty-five minutes to wait, Sarah settled into the dislocated visitor chair with a book she'd borrowed from her step-mother. More than a little exhausted from being kicked out of the labyrinth and thrown into this bit of stress, it took only a few minutes before she succumbed to sleep.

* * *

Some people found it difficult to be silent while using a cane. House had never had that problem. 

Seeing the door was closed and the room was quiet, he leaned his cane against the jam and very slowly pushed the door open.

He didn't really remember what she looked like, other than the abnormal rash on her arm and the fuzzy image the security tape managed to show him. Even then, the woman asleep in the chair was familiar yet strange enough to give him pause. She could be the woman in question or she could be another woman he'd met before. At some point, they all blended together into Unidentifiable Female.

The only way to be sure was to see her arm. Hopefully the rash remained.

Limping to her chair was a stealthy affair, but even more care was put into slowly pushing back the sleeve of her sweater.

Even in the dim light of the room, he could see the tell tale sparkle that seemed to come from the very essence of her skin. The discovery was almost enough to make him crow in victory, but there was still a bit more detective work to do before waking and thoroughly annoying his victim.

He didn't always carry a scrape kit in his pocket, but he did whenever visiting a Williams. For once, this bit of precaution paid off. Once the sample of glittery skin was safely in his pocket, he dropped the act.

"Wake up, crazy lady!"

The woman jumped out of her chair so fast, she almost tripped. However, she recovered quickly and shot him a scathing look. He didn't bat an eye.

"You almost woke my nephew. Have you no decency?"

"Nope. But now that you're here again, perhaps we can get back to that discussion we were having before you gave us the slip last time."

She growled, a sound low in her throat that sounded a bit dangerous.

"Why can't you forget like the rest of them? Why must you be so difficult?"

"I thought you were responsible for that. Not sure _how_, but I'm sure we'll get to that during our little chat."

"No thank you. I'd rather keep saying half truths."

"They are fun, aren't they? Too bad I won't let you."

"Then I'll just lie."

"Not if you want little Kyle here--"

"Kevin."

"…the kid to get the right treatment."

"You're threatening me? With the health of my nephew? I've met some terrible beings in my life, but you just take the cake."

"Beings? Is that how they say 'people' in your crazy world?"

"I am not telling you anything! That's all I need is to be committed again. Do you know how difficult it is to escape from those places? Worse than a labyrinth!"

"Listen, I don't care about whoever the hell you are. I just want to know about the rash. And the disappearing act. And the forgetting."

"O, so you just want to know _everything_ you can't know."

"I'm not leaving until I get answers."

"Don't you have anything better to do?"

"Nope." And with that, he settled into the seat she had vacated and proceeded to stare unnervingly at her.

* * *

Toby Williams may have been considered a bit young by his mother to marry and start a family, but he was by no means stupid. Thus, when he opened the door to his son's hospital room to find his half-sister trying to keep from acknowledging a strange man staring relentlessly at her, he knew instinctively that trouble was brewing if he didn't manage to diffuse the situation promptly. 

"Sarah! Sorry I took so long."

They hugged, and he could just feel the relief emanating from his older sister. Then, he met her eyes and they shared an entire conversation through three select movements of their eyebrows.

"So you'll be off then?" he said with a sigh.

"Afraid so. Some people aren't making it easy to stick around," she responded with a glare in the man's direction. "Next time someone gets sick, can you please take them to another hospital? The doctors here aren't very good."

"I'm an excellent doctor. You're just a terrible patient."

"I was never your patient!"

Both Toby and the man rolled their eyes causing Sarah to sigh in frustration.

"Do you have this covered?" she asked plaintively. He could tell from her voice that she'd had too much, which really was something considering who her sort-of husband was.

"I've got it. Thanks, Sis."

"No problem. I just hope it's been 13 hours."

"Heh, good luck on that."

Without another word and before the strange man could get up from his chair, Sarah took off running through the door and disappeared into the hallway. The man made to follow but was significantly slower due to what looked to be a limp. Even so, had Sarah been anyone else, he would have seen her still in the hallway once he made it to the door.

But Toby already knew she was gone.

"Damn!"

"O, come on, you knew that was going to happen," Toby said with a grin.

The doctor was too busy staring at his bare arm to respond to that.

"Your arm isn't sparkling."

"Why would it be?" Toby responded. "I haven't been Underground in ages."

The doctor just looked at him blankly. Toby found himself taking pity on him. Sarah had always said he was much too soft hearted. With that thought in mind, he took out his wallet and pulled out what looked to be a business card.

"Listen, I'm not supposed to do this, but you seem the type. If you can read this, I would recommend being there. If you can't read it… well, then its best to forget this ever happened."

His kind act for the day done, Toby settled into the displaced visitor chair, picked up Sarah's discarded book, and completely ignored the man. When he finally walked out the door, still staring at the card, Toby couldn't help but smirk.

* * *

When House walked into his office, only Chase was present, going over case files in an attempt to find something interesting. 

"What does this say to you?" he asked while showing him the business card.

"What do you mean? It's blank."

"Blank… No, not blank."

Not blank at all. While patting the skin scraping still resting safely in his pocket, he read over the words again with a smirk.

_Underground Support Group_  
_Tuesdays 7 PM_  
_555 Trebuchet_

* * *


	3. Chapter 3

**Rash(ness)**  
_astarvingwriter_

_**Standard Disclaimer Applies x2**_

_**Author's Plea: **__Rash(ness)_, also known as the oneshot that wouldn't end, also known as the chaptered fic that wouldn't be plotted. As such, be prepared to be disappointed. I'm hoping one more chapter may finish it up after this.

**Part 3.**

* * *

When House arrived at 555 Trebuchet almost a week after the strange second encounter with the Glittery-Arm Woman, he found himself surprisingly reluctant to take that final step across the threshold.

He wasn't afraid. Rather he found walking into an _Underground Support Group _in the Rose Room of the Plainsboro Alternative Community Center rather more than his sense of humor would allow.

However, as reluctant as he was to put himself in such a position as to be forced to pretend to play nice with crazy people, the mystery surrounding the Williams woman and her glittering rash was simply too much to ignore. As none of his minions could read the business card the younger Williams had offered, nor were they interested in the events that precipitated the situation, he was forced to do the leg work himself.

Even so, it took quite a bit of effort not to leave once he heard the room's inhabitants begin a heated discussion.

"We should start already." House could almost taste the poorly hidden indignation in the man's voice.

"The Queen isn't here," stated a clipped female voice. He pictured a librarian, and not the sexy kind he often saw in pornos.

"So? I'm just saying we should start." The man's indignation was, if possible, even more poorly hidden.

"Start without the Queen? That's ridiculous!" The clipped female voice was now also shrill. His porno fantasies were dying quicker by the minute.

"Her making us wait, _that's_ ridiculous. Why should we be so inconvenienced?" The man no longer even bothered hiding the indignation.

"You've just _never_ liked the Queen, Mal!"

"You've just _always_ been a kiss ass, Mathilda!"

"You're just _both_ being annoying as all Underground. The goblins are difficult enough without listening to the two of you arguing all the time." This was a new voice, and possibly the sanest _sounding_ of them all. However, as a participant in the Underground Support Group, the voice was most definitely misleading. The goblin reference also was a huge sign.

In fact, goblins were a step further than he was willing to take.

Crazy people were one thing; crazy people could be very interesting. Crazy people believing in goblins were something completely different. 'Different' was most likely just mushrooms, and at the very least, drug addicts failed to interest him.

Despite the sure mystery and despite the obvious indications of mass hallucinations if not mass insanity, he was ready to pop some Vicodin and call it a night. These weren't his kind of people. He wasn't sure, and frankly didn't care, who _were_ his kind of people, but these people were squarely in the "no way in hell" arena.

His hand was already searching his pocket for Vicodin when an angry tap on his shoulder turned away all his thoughts of leaving.

"What are _you_ doing here?" the Williams woman hissed.

Her sleeve had been pushed up, showing a particularly glittery forearm. Instantly his interest was revived. The lab tests of her skin scrapings had not provided adequate answers, after all. 'Results Inconclusive' just didn't have that satisfactory ring.

"House call."

"This is not my house, and you are _not_ my doctor! Please leave!"

"You can't refuse a cripple." He shook his cane in her line of sight for good measure.

"This meeting is by invitation only."

"I was invited." When he flicked out the business card, she almost tore it from his fingertips before cursing and ripping it angrily into pieces.

"I am going to _kill_ Toby…" she muttered while balling the card scraps in her fist.

"You _do_ know that it is my solemn duty as a doctor to report the murderous thoughts of a crazy person to the proper authorities," he stated with clear intent.

"I am not _crazy_. Must you always antagonize me?"

House merely shrugged. He thought of a clever comeback but figured she would only be expecting that. It was best to wait for the right moment.

The Williams woman used his silence to close her eyes and take several deep breaths before she seemed to regain some composure.

"If you could read the card then maybe you should stay. It might be interesting to see how you react," she finally said resolutely.

"Spoken like a true crazy woman."

She ignored the comment and merely gazed at him with an assessing eye. A wry grin crossed her lips before she nodded to a small folding table in the hallway that was covered in assorted fliers for everything from Yoga to Nude-Tai-Energetic-Sculpture-Yoga.

"Tell me something. Do you see them on that table?"

"Mentally disturbing pamphlets? Yes."

"I suppose you don't then. Feel free to stay then, but decide now because I need to get this meeting started. Just know that whatever mystery you think you've found is nothing compared to what you might actually find."

"Did you take a speech class in 'Crazy'? Do they offer that class here?"

"I'll only give you this warning once: leave now if you don't want to start seeing the goblins."

And with that parting remark, possibly crazier than anything she'd said to date, the Williams woman turned on her heal and walked into the room. He walked just out of sight of the doorway and listened in.

"Your majesty! I knew you'd come!" The clipped female voice had changed almost completely by happiness.

"Of course, Mathilda. I'm sorry I was late. I… ran into an old acquaintance."

"Under or Above?"

"Above. They are far clingier."

The occupants of the room chuckled, and House felt a tiny bit insulted. Before he quite knew what he was doing, he took those last few fateful steps into the room.

"'Clingier'? You're the crazy woman stalking me," he said while meeting her amused eyes. He knew a challenge when he saw one, and he simply refused to be bested by someone who saw goblins.

"If that's how you want to see it," she stated with a smirk before turning to the assembled. "Everyone, please welcome the newest addition to our support circle, Dr. House. He's a bit difficult and a non-believer, but I have a feeling he'll be right at home soon enough."

* * *

"You didn't answer your phone."

Wilson almost sounded upset about it. House idly wondered exactly how that could be. It wasn't as if he regularly answered his phone anyways.

"I was spending quality time with the insane," he said between bites of his Reuben sandwich.

"Ah. I forgot that was on Tuesdays."

He wondered for a moment whether Wilson truly knew the extent of it. One of the regulars was one of the oncologist's former patients --and never failed to remind House of it. After three weeks, he'd hoped the annoying woman would realize that he didn't give a damn how wonderful she thought Dr. Wilson was.

That wasn't the end of it; in fact, the support group featured more than one forgettable face.

The first group member House had ever spoken to, other than the Williams woman, was an atrocious little man by the name of Mal. Mal had gone by "Malodorous" back when, two years before, he'd first entered the clinic claiming to be suffering disorientation and a skin rash.

In this case, unlike the Williams woman, it _had_ a conclusive medical reason: he had severe sunburn, probably from wondering around the northeastern United States for the better part of a week in the middle of July. The disorientation was believed to stem from the same cause, but after listening to the man rant about missing the "forever dusk outside the castle walls" and how much he resented being "banished by that no-good King" for "one tiny bit of misunderstanding about his relations with a chicken", House had decided it was outright insanity instead of dehydration.

He was coming to realize it might be a much deeper problem than he'd ever imagined. For one, he wouldn't have guessed it was such a popular infliction.

And just to make everything even crazier, the Williams woman herself played a seemingly important part in their shared delusion: she was the Queen. Whether they loved her or hated her, all of the group members respected her and acknowledged her position as leader. Even those that hated the King were willing to at least listen to the Queen.

Even the _King_ occasionally listened to the Queen, though House had a feeling that was more to retain certain conjugal privileges than to a express a wish for her input. Despite his outrageous appearance and outlandish attitude, the King was still a man. A much maligned and altogether ridiculous man, but a man nonetheless, and a man that seemed completely whipped by the Williams woman.

If anything, House almost felt pity for the King. He might actually have if he was not under the distinct impression that he had already met the King.

And, of course, it all went back to that first encounter. He still couldn't get an answer either way from either the Williams woman or the King about what happened and why everyone had conveniently forgotten about it, though the other group members claimed it wasn't unusual for the King to play with time to suit his needs.

As he was still finding his answers, he was left with attending the group sessions just to get more pieces of the puzzle. He'd been to three so far and found himself more curious after each. These people truly _believed_ there was a fantastical Underground inhabited by goblins and other mythical beings. These people truly _believed_ in magic.

He'd seen cults before, but never this level of diversity within such intense belief. It was such that he found himself wanting to see what they saw, if only so he could categorize it and study it.

Which reminded him…

"Is crazy infectious?"

The oncologist looked puzzled, but was a good enough sport to respond.

"Depends on the cause, of course. You're more of a specialist in that than I am."

House wasn't quite sure if he was referring to his medical specialty or if Wilson was actually making a comment on his apparently lacking sanity. He decided to go with the former.

"There doesn't seem to be a cause, unless you count stale water from the cooler, and I've already tested that."

"Why the sudden interest? Are you catching it?"

He thought he saw something move on an empty table. Though he couldn't see it except from the corners of his eyes, he nevertheless got an impression of something brown and ugly.

"Possibly," he responded with a blank expression.

"Well," Wilson said with a sigh. "Everyone already thinks you're crazy. It's not as if we need more proof."

And without another word, the oncologist picked up his lunch tray and went back to work.

* * *

"You're sparklier than usual," the man said in lieu of a greeting.

"Good evening to you too, Dr. House," Sarah replied with only a slightly frosted tone. She wasn't sure she liked that she was getting used to his presence. He was slightly tyrannical and terribly sarcastic, but certainly easier to deal with than some of the other group members. He even seemed to strike a chord with Jareth, which was saying quite a lot.

Then again, perhaps overbearing men could find common ground regardless of where they originated.

She still wondered, though, what would happen when the man began to really see the goblins. Already he was beginning to catch glimpses. It was only a matter of time and exposure before he would be able to see them outright and everywhere.

"You should really get that rash checked out. It could turn into something nasty," he said without looking away from her arms.

"Yes, well, I have a terrible fear of doctors."

"Really."

"Oh yes. I fear they're all ignorant pigs who never actually _listen_ to their patients before diagnosing them."

"The _last_ thing a doctor should do is listen to their patient."

"Like I said, it's a terrible fear."

They both smirked before his eyes were drawn to the refreshments table. She turned and acknowledged two goblins, Frip and Glonk, chasing each across the length of the table, occasionally stepping on some of the sandwiches she'd bought. The doctor's expression told her he couldn't actually see the two goblins yet, but he seemed to see enough to avoid the sandwich tray that evening.

In fact, he seemed pretty adept at avoiding rambling goblins considering he couldn't actually see them. While consoling a weepy and homesick former Undergrounder, she caught a glimpse of the doctor neatly sidestepping Plimp as he ran from the wrath of Loot and Pil.

Sarah couldn't help but feel vindicated. She'd been uncomfortable and at his mercy at the hospital, even though she'd never been a patient. Now he was firmly in her territory and about to feel just as uncomfortable. All the "crazy woman" comments would finally be avenged.

She wondered when she could time it just right to ask him exactly what going mad felt like.

* * *


End file.
